


Tactical Nightmares

by zeldadestry



Category: Numb3rs
Genre: Episode Related, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-07-14
Updated: 2006-07-14
Packaged: 2017-10-26 10:59:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/282282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zeldadestry/pseuds/zeldadestry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He didn’t lie to himself. He only lied to other people.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tactical Nightmares

**Author's Note:**

> Episode coda for ‘Rampage’  
> Warning: homophobia related issues

A phone was ringing, somewhere, and by the time Colby roused himself to attention, David was already in the other room. He couldn’t make out the words, just David’s voice, somewhat slurred by a body struggling with leftover beer, leftover sleep, but steady.

He rolled over on his back and gave himself up to doubt. What the fuck had he been thinking last night? Well, he hadn’t been thinking; he’d been falling down drunk. That was the god damn problem. He didn’t remember much, but what he could recall was enough for him to recognize he’d dived into a puddle of shit. He’d been in trouble like this in the army, and hated himself for ending up in a situation again.

It was a mess, and even worse because he’d been thinking about it right before Schane had started shooting. He’d been taunting McCall, calling him sick, but the bastard stayed defiant. When he’d left the interrogation room, he’d paused for just a moment with his hand on the doorknob. How many people in the world could have said the same thing to him and really meant it? Millions? Billions? Billions of people saying, you’re sick, Colby, you know that, right? What you do is wrong.

He didn’t lie to himself. He only lied to other people. It was mostly tacit, but he’d do it outright, if forced. Trouble came when you slept with someone who was lying to themselves. They hated you afterward. Because they blamed it all on you, like you tricked them, forced them. Because no, no, they couldn’t be gay. They were normal. It was you; you were the flaw, the error, the sin, the crime. No. That was taking it too far. He felt like he might puke. David was his friend, David wouldn’t, couldn’t think those things about him, right?

He lay his forearm across his eyes. It was stupid, like a little kid, playing ‘I can’t see you, so you can’t see me’.

David came back into the room. “You ok?”

“Yeah,” Colby croaked. “Just, you know, hung over.”

David laughed. “Yeah, I know.” He sat down close to Colby, on the edge of the bed. One of his hands rested on Colby’s arm, tried to nudge it away. “Let me see you.”

“Why?”

“So I know you’re ok.”

Colby dropped his arm, but kept his eyes closed. “Who was on the phone?”

“Megan. It was your phone; I picked it up by mistake.”

“Shit. What’d you tell her?”

“The truth. We were drunk and I crashed at your place.” Colby could picture exactly how David looked right now. His brow was a little furrowed, his eyes wary. David wanted to say something else, had prepared to say it, Colby could tell from his deep inhale. But David didn’t speak, and Colby understood that neither of them knew what to say. Silence like this, he’d struggled with it during ambushes. Silence was false. You were still moving, your target was still moving. For all you knew, there was someone behind, following the trail, tracking you. Silence was a presence, white noise, the dull sound of waves in your ears. It obscured the things you really needed to know. “Colby, it’s ok.”

And that was David’s voice, something in David’s voice, he opened his eyes, and there was the expression he had pictured. He knew David. “I know.” He reached out his hand, his fingers touched the tips of David’s. Nothing but that, a hesitant touch, and David smiled. It was not a happy smile, but that was ok. It was a real smile, peace's pause in the midst of combat. By a mutual slide closer, their fingers intertwined.

“I’ve gotta get going,” David said. It wasn’t necessary to add that he wanted to stay.

“I know.”

“Get some more rest. It’s been a rough week. I’ll see you soon.”

“You can let yourself out?”

“Yeah, no problem.”

“There’s coffee in the kitchen. I can get you some.”

“Nah, I’m alright. Go back to sleep.”

Colby did as he was told, his eyes closed again, and he hardly noticed when David gently untangled their hands. He drifted until the sudden slam of the front door jarred him, not only because of the sound, but because it meant that David was gone. He rolled over on his side, scrubbed at his face with his hands. This was worse, actually, than his fears. David didn’t lie to himself, either, and he should have known that. They didn’t lie to each other. This was worse. You couldn’t do your job with feelings like this. Even friendship could be dangerous, if it made you careless, made you question your given objective. Everyone had heard horror stories about an agent losing a suspect because their partner went down and they stayed to help. You had to be willing to sacrifice a body for your goal, your own body, your enemy’s, your friend’s. You didn’t want it to go down like that, you prayed that it wouldn’t, but you had to be ready for it. You had to accept that price, and the closer you were with someone, the more impossible it became. Colby had a bad habit of getting too close, he always got too close, found himself like this, haunted by loss and hounded by guilt. But how could he be otherwise? It was impossible to put duty first in your heart. It would be a life without human attachments, without love. It was always a person, a person behind every job, even the soldier’s. And a person needed a reason to live, to fight. And there couldn’t, could there, be anything wrong with caring like this, if it kept you upright when other men might give in and fall?

He was more tired than he knew. He fell asleep again without answering himself. The question, like wire, curled too-tight round his heart.  



End file.
